


you seem exceptional

by lhknox



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, College, Cutesy, Disaster Gays, F/F, Fluff, i tried to tag a shrug emoji but it wouldnt let me bc theyre homophobes, punk!alex, somehow maggie and vasquez became best friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 17:56:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14337924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lhknox/pseuds/lhknox
Summary: "And for a moment, Maggie realises that maybe Alex is just as nervous as she is."in which they're both disaster baby gays.AU based on a prompt from tumblr: "there’s a cute punk who I keep chatting up at the bike racks outside the library and one of the lecture halls, and I kinda have a crush, but there’s no way they’d ever think of me like that, right?"





	you seem exceptional

Today’s the day.

 

It can’t go on anymore, Maggie’s decided. She’s just gotta bite the bullet. Her aunt was right; she was a delight, goddamnit, and any girl would be lucky to have her. She’s smart and she’s sharp and she inherited the Sawyer family dimples. She’s a catch and any girl would be lucky to have her.

 

“You can do this,” she mutters to herself as she heads across the quad. She wears her nicest, slightly oversized denim jacket and the jeans she knows make her legs look hot. 

 

She’s standing where she always does - by the bike rack - and the sight of her makes Maggie’s palms sweat. She doesn’t know what it is about this girl that makes her so nervous. She’s not even really Maggie’s type. Her hair is dyed pink and her nose is pierced and she always wears one fishnet glove pretty and combat boots. She’s a lot different than Maggie’s ex girlfriend who wore polos and was always excited and constantly talked about lacrosse. 

 

The Bike Rack Goth Girl, as Vasquez had lovingly dubbed her, was… she was cool, and effortlessly so. There was something about the confidence in her step, the way she embraced her differences so wholeheartedly. It draws Maggie in and she can’t stop thinking about her.

 

She takes a deep breath. “You got this, Sawyer,” she says to herself, approaching the girl.

 

And then suddenly she’s right next to her and Maggie’s throat feels like it’s closing up and the girl is sort of just staring at her and she just  _ can’t get any fucking words out and  _ -

 

She makes a run for it.

 

She just… races back across the quad and to Lecture Hall G. She spots Vasquez fairly quickly and makes a beeline for her, dropping into the seat beside her.

 

“So did you speak to her?” Vasquez asks without looking away from her laptop.

 

“Nope.”

 

“Not even hello?”

 

“I just stood there.”

 

“You stood there.”

 

“And then I ran away.”

 

“Like-”

 

“Yeah, like full on just made a run for it. Sprinted here.”

 

Vasquez closes her laptop and faces Maggie.

 

“Let me get this straight. You approached her, stood next to her for a few moments, and then just ran away?”

 

Maggie buries her head in her hands. “I want. To die.”

 

Vasquez laughs and puts a comforting hand on Maggie’s shoulder. “You’re so gay.”

 

“I just… she’s so cute. I short circuited just being near her, how the fuck am I ever going to talk to her??”

 

“One day,” Vasquez says wistfully, “you’ll be a badass cop who wears leather jackets and picks up girls in dive bars.”

 

Maggie wrinkles her nose. “I don’t think I’ll ever wear leather jackets; they’re not really my thing.”

 

“Not my point, Sawyer. Just… don’t sweat it with goth; it’s not the end of the world that you’re an awkward little shit.”

 

Maggie wishes she had Vasquez’s confidence, but she just doesn’t think she’ll ever get there. She’s lived in Texas since she was fourteen and she’s been in college for two whole years but she still feels like the little Nebraskan kid who was too shy to hold her baby brother for the first three days of his life. She still feels small and unprepared and unsure of how to  _ be.  _

 

The professor starts the lecture and Maggie finds a small comfort in his monotone voice.

  
  


///

  
  


Maggie’s always found comfort in the library. When she was younger, her father would take her every Sunday to get a new book to read together every night. When she was a bit older and her baby brother was born, she’d go just to escape his constant screaming. And when her parents’ fighting was too much to handle, she’d wander the old, dusty shelves in search of characters who felt more like family than her actual family. 

 

She recalls, with fondness, that the library was where she googled ‘lesbian’ for the first time. She remembers the understanding that washed over her, the instant ‘ _ oh!’  _ as everything finally fell into place. She remembers waiting in the library, waiting for her aunt to drive all the way from Texas to come and pick her up. She remembers one of the librarians making her hot cocoa and silently handing her a tissue every time she started crying again.

 

But right now, in the university library where she’s supposed to be studying, Maggie wants to  _ die.  _

 

Because sitting just two tables away - despite the plethora of free chairs - is the Bike Rack Goth Girl.

 

How was Maggie supposed to study when all she could focus on was  _ her _ ??

 

She was too gay for this.

 

Vasquez slides into the seat beside Maggie, clothes rumpled and hair dishevelled. Maggie rolls her eyes.

 

“If you’re gonna have a library booty call, you could at least button your shirt properly when you’re done.”

 

Vasquez looks down, frowning as she notices her shirt. “We had to finish quickly, somebody came into the ontology section. What even is ontology and who the fuck needs a book on it?”

 

Maggie shrugs.

 

“A philosophy major, probably,” comes a voice from a couple tables away. Maggie’s head jerks up, and she finds Alex looking at them. 

 

“Huh?”

 

“Ontology. It’s the philosophical study of existence and reality.”

 

Maggie thinks she might be dying because her face feels really hot and she can’t really hear anything but a whooshing in her ears and all she can think is  _ holy shit her voice! _

 

Maggie looks back down at her work, and she assumes Alex has gone back to hers because it’s quiet again. But now she can practically hear the wheels turning in Vasquez’s mind.

 

“Hey,” Vasquez stage whispers. “Hey, Goth Girl.” Maggie groans as she watches Alex roll her eyes at Vasquez.

 

“What’s your name?” she asks. “I gotta stop calling you Goth Girl.”

 

Alex hesitates for a split second. “Alex.”

 

_ Alex.  _

 

It suits her, Maggie thinks. 

 

“You’re a philosophy major, then?” Vasquez asks.

 

“Pre-med, actually.”

 

Vasquez grins. “That’s hot.”

 

Alex rolls her eyes. “Not interested.”

 

“A shame,” Vasquez continues, “but I’m actually looking for someone for my friend here, and I think you two would hit it off.”

 

“NO!” Maggie screams, before remembering where she is. “I mean, that - that’s okay, I’m okay. Thank you, though. But. Uh. No. It’s all good… in the hood.” She stands up abruptly, and gathers her books.

 

“I need to leave.”

 

Maggie thinks she blacked out from the stress, because the next thing she knows she’s lying face down on her bed, groaning in panic and Vasquez is banging on the door.

 

She sits up slightly. “Go away!”

 

“If you don’t let me in, I’m just gonna pick the lock!”

 

“Fucking try!”

 

And then, moments later, Vasquez is standing over her bed, smirking, Maggie’s door ajar behind them.

 

She files ‘can pick locks’ under ‘Things That Will Require Me To Bail Vasquez Out of Jail’.

 

“You know, I’ve seen a lot of gay panic in my life -”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“- but that was otherworldly.”

 

“I hate you.”

 

“Like Defcon One of Gayness.”

 

“We’re not friends anymore.”

 

Vasquez laughs. “Maggie, of course we’re still friends. I’m the best fuckin’ friend.

 

“You humiliated me.”

 

“Did I?”

 

“... Yes.”

 

“The way I see it, I today I got you three invaluable pieces of information. One, her name is Alex. Two, she’s smart enough to be doing pre-med and also know what ontology is.”

 

“And three?”

 

“She’s super into you.”

 

Maggie sits up properly, this time.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“You were too busy malfunctioning, you didn’t see the way she looked at you.”

 

“You’re lying.”

 

“I can be an asshole, but I’m not a dick.”

 

“I… I don’t know what that means.”

 

“It means trust me, she’s into you. Go for it. At least, I don’t know, say hi to her now? Instead of just running away every time you get too close?”

 

Maggie gets her chance the next day.

 

Alex is alone, as always, and by the bike rack. Maggie takes a deep breath. It’s now or never.

 

When she’s close enough to her - practically on top of her, by Maggie standards - Maggie can see the few freckles along Alex’s nose and the way her eyeliner is done with care and expert precision.

 

“Hey,” she says, gulping.

 

“H-hi,” Alex says.

 

“I’m sorry about yesterday.”

 

“Yesterday.”

 

“I sort of… yelled at you in the library. And my friend was harassing you. It wasn’t nice. Oh. I’m Maggie, by the way. ” She holds out a hand. Alex doesn’t shake it. She lowers it, awkwardly.

 

“It’s okay, Maggie,” Alex says coolly, “I’m used to people making fun of me.”

 

“What?? No! She was making fun of me, I swear. She knows I think you’re cute and I’ve been trying to talk to you for months and I just never know what to say and I get all riled up and -”

 

“You… why do  _ you _ wanna talk to  _ me _ ?”

 

“You just…” Maggie decides to be honest. “You seem exceptional.”

 

Alex averts her gaze. Maggie watches as color rises in her cheek and she tucks her hair behind her ear. 

 

And for a moment, Maggie realises that maybe Alex is just as nervous as she is.

 

“Look, I’ve annoyed you enough today, so I’ll get out of your hair.”

 

“You’re not, you’re not annoying me.”

 

Maggie smiles. “Good to know.”

 

“This isn’t some sort of prank right?”

 

“Ex _ cuse _ me?”

 

“I mean, in what world does the beautiful girl with the dimples and the hair and the everything talk to the bad-dye-job, rebellious pre-med student?”

 

“In the world where the good-dye-job, rebellious pre-med student is so… so entirely  _ you  _ and awesome. I’ve never seen someone as confident as you. You’re so effortlessly cool and you’re so just…” Maggie stops. She smiles. She makes sure Alex is making eye contact with her. Suddenly this seems easy, normal almost. “Do you wanna grab a coffee?”

 

Alex smiles softly, a tiny smile that makes Maggie’s heart flutter with excitement and anticipation. 

 

“Coffee sounds great,” Alex replies. 

 

Maggie doesn’t believe in soulmates, nor love at first site. She knows that most relationships end in heartache and most marriages in divorce. But for some reason, when she looks at Alex, that all goes out the window. And she knows - she just  _ knows _ , somehow - that hers and Alex’s stories were meant to intwine and be told as one.

 

And god, she hopes she’s right. 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> anywhom i wanted to write a fic where maggie wasn't the over confident lesbian queen we know her as, but rather the scared lil baby gay she used to be.
> 
> come follow me/chat over on tumblr at [murdershegoat](murdershegoat.tumblr.com)


End file.
